


Needs Must

by nightcamedown



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Community: comment_fic, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-27
Updated: 2010-10-27
Packaged: 2017-10-17 17:15:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/179131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightcamedown/pseuds/nightcamedown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Comment fic for the prompt <i>serialkiller!Sherlock/John + Mycroft, this time Mycroft thinks he's found the ideal partner for his brother...just to make sure Sherlock doesn't go too far and actually get caught</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Needs Must

Sherlock had been insistent. "John will see reason," he had said, with an expression both smug and desperate. It was a peculiar look, but familiar to Mycroft from their early boyhood. He feels that he could have quit himself of his troublesome younger brother years ago, were it not for that strange combination of assurance and need.

"He'll see reason," Sherlock had repeated, and Mycroft had laughed at him.

"He'll see reason to turn you in for murder." Mycroft had leaned back and templed his fingers over his stomach. "No. Men of action are best persuaded by circumstance."

*

And that's how they found themselves here, in a warehouse with an atmosphere almost comically appropriate to their purpose, observing the last feeble gasps of Sherlock's victim and listening to the clang-clang-clang of Watson's approach down the metal stairs.

Mycroft tilted his head. "No limp at all," he said.

The corner of Sherlock's mouth rose. "Entirely psychosomatic," he replied, "but he takes offense when I say so."

Watson burst through the last door with his gun drawn but held at his hip. Mycroft let his own hand fall to the pistol at his side but didn't raise it.

The brothers Holmes had, admittedly, arranged the scene so that a slobbering idiot could not have mistaken what had happened, but give the man credit: Watson didn't miss a beat. He looked at the body, looked at Mycroft, looked at Sherlock. He opened his mouth and closed it. Then he carefully thumbed his gun's safety back on and placed it in his waistband.

"What do you need me to do?"


End file.
